


These Wretched Orchids

by sweetheartlamb



Category: The Simpsons
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Flowers, Gardens & Gardening, Gen, House Party, Mystery, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:34:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 3,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26958898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetheartlamb/pseuds/sweetheartlamb
Summary: Helen finds a mysterious, budding orchid patch in her backyard.
Relationships: Helen Lovejoy/Timothy Lovejoy
Kudos: 4





	1. Orchid Buds

Helen gasped at what she saw.

It was a budding garden! However, there was one problem - Helen didn't plant it. 'Perhaps Timothy or Jessica planted some flowers...' she thought. 'I'd ask.' She went back inside and went up to her daughter. "Jessica, have you been planting flowers in the yard again?" she queried.

"No..." Jessica replied, turning to see her. "Why do you ask?"

"I found a patch of budding flowers outside, and I was wondering if you had anything to do with it."

Jessica turned back and said "Nope, as I've already said. I don't think father had anything to do with it, either." Although Helen knew she was likely correct, she still wanted to contact Timothy, just to make sure. She stepped downstairs to see him playing with one of his many train sets. "Timothy! Have you planted any flowers in our yard recently?" she yelled to him. He stopped for a few seconds to say no.

She went back upstairs, slightly disappointed. 'The only other likely choice was that one of the Flanders planted this garden.' she thought. 'Maybe I'll talk to them. Eyeing the phone, another idea planted itself in her mind. '...Or I could gossip about this and let the gardener weed themselves out. That's good too.' she plotted. Helen rung the phone and called a few good friends of hers.

After finally setting her phone down, she wondered what to do now. 'Well, those flowers won't grow unless I help them.' she thought. The flowers looked good today, so she wouldn't have to do anything right now, but she'd have to check up on them every now and then. Thankfully for her, there were some extra gardening tools upstairs she could use, along with a few people who may or may not show up soon. Tomorrow would be at least a little more eventful for Helen Lovejoy.


	2. Rainfall

Helen walked to the patch with a watering can in hand. She made sure the orchids were getting enough water - not too much, and not to little. 'Perhaps I can call someone that'd be able to identify what type of flowers these are...' Helen thought, patting some dirt over some exposed roots. She set herself down on the porch and thought of people to call. "...Smithers...? No...maybe Luann? ...That's more accessible...what about Lisa...don't get Marge's attention...Perhaps I should just buy a book...but I like talking to other people..." she mumbled, among other things.

Eventually, Helen had an idea. Walking inside, she called someone who'd know a thing or two about plants - Yvonne! And so, she rung the phone and called her. "Yvonne, I have something you _need_ to see." she said.

"...Oh, already? Does this have to do with that garden of yours?"

"Yes. One problem, however...I don't know what type they are, and perhaps you could help?"

"I...um, sure. It'll be a while before I get there, just so you know!" Yvonne said, and she hung up. Helen sighed in relief, knowing someone would help her grow this garden. In the distance, a storm started to stir. 'I better make a shelter for those poor flowers soon - or else they'll drown!' she realized, and started to gather wood to make a roof. Meanwhile, rain already began to pour where Yvonne was. 'I'm gonna be living in windshield wiper hell...' she thought as she drove to the Lovejoy's house.

As Yvonne showed up, she could see Helen building a wooden shed for the patch by the corner of her eye. She got out the car, and walked towards Helen. "I believe those are orchids! Let's hope they don't suffer from bud blast." she said, getting Helen's attention. Bud blast was when the buds of a flower fell out due to unsavory conditions. To Helen, that was just as bad as losing those flowers. Let's hope this soil is perfect...or that those flowers are sturdy.

"Helen? Um...Helen...? Are you alright?" Yvonne asked.

Helen snapped out of her worry and said "Oh! I'm doing fine. Besides, it's no use calling you over here just to inform me about some flowers. How about we have dinner at my place?"

"Fair enough. Anything to get away from this rain, too..." she agreed. And so, they both walked inside to have dinner.


	3. Dinner

"Timothy!" Helen yelled downstairs. "We have a guest over!"

"I'll be ready, dear. Go make dinner, alright?" he said, surprisingly setting his toy train away.

She walked towards the kitchen and asked Yvonne "What would you like to eat?"

"How about some spaghetti? And don't forget to put herbs in it. Spaghetti _always_ tastes better that way." she replied, nearly gushing. Helen pointed to the dinner table as she pulled out a special recipe for tonight. It was something a friend of hers gave to her before running away from Springfield. It would be perfect, since the recipe used plenty of herbs. She began to cook as her family settled at the table.

'Since I'm waiting, I should probably talk to Helen's family. It's not like I have anything else to do.' Yvonne thought. She looked towards Jessica and asked her if she wanted to know what her tattoos meant. She was about to say yes, but Timothy stopped her. "Now, Yvonne, I don't want Jessica being inspired to get tattoos when _she_ grows up." he reasoned.

"C'mon, Timothy. She was gonna get a tattoo anyways, and I was just going to explain them to her."

"...Hmpf. Fine, but that _better_ be all you do." he said as Jessica scooted closer. She pointed to the large skull tattoo on her right should first. "This was me and Brickell's family emblem. We made it back when we were kids." she explained. Jessica was in awe. "I wished _I_ had a cool emblem..." she whispered.

"We already have one, and it's the _cross!_ " the reverend said, nearly yelling. "Tim, calm down..." his wife merely warned, putting another herb into the meal. Yvonne cupped her hands and waited for Jessica to look at her again. Once she did, she held up her arm and continued. It was one of those faux bracelets, and it was one with a thorn design.

"First tattoo I've ever gotten, sometime back in the 2000s. It was inspired by a friend of mine...they're gone now, but they'd love to be here with us."

"Gone? Are they _dead?_ " Jessica asked.

"No. They're aren't _dead_ , per se...but here, they ain't."

Yvonne was going to tell some more about her tattoos, but Helen finished their dinner. She separated the spaghetti into bowls and gave one bowl to everyone, including herself. "My...this is the best spaghetti I've ever eaten. What's the secret?" Yvonne asked.

"Secret recipe. It's one of the few things I won't gossip about, alright. Wouldn't want anyone stealing such a wonderful recipe, would we?" she replied, and the four all laughed. Once everyone finished, Yvonne waved goodbye and left. The rain had mostly stopped by then, and her car had dried off. Helen looked out the window to look at her new patch. 'Luck really did bring us here, didn't it?' she thought.


	4. Rash

A day or so later, Helen was working on her new garden as she heard a lady walk up to her. "Marge!" she yelped, only partially expecting her to appear. "You're here..." Marge rubbed her hand behind her head. "I know, I know...I didn't want to show up uninvited...but I want to tell you something."

"Well, what is it then?"

"Look at your hands." she told her. As Helen rose her hands from the patch, she gasped. There were rashes on her hands. She looked at the patch in confusion. They were just normal orchids, weren't they? She looked back at Marge and said "They are just normal orchids and these are just normal rashes. It's likely just from stray weeds or hard work."

"Mhm...You're probably right, but a patch of flowers suddenly appearing in your backyard is _still_ very suspicious." Marge replied. "...I own a pair of gloves that can stop rashes from appearing." she added, hastily.

"...Thanks, Marge. You're acting...suspiciously nice. Perhaps _you_ planted this garden?"

"Oh, I haven't. Thanks for the...erm, complement. You'll get the gloves soon, I promise." she said, before walking away. Helen hoped she did, especially if these rashes were going to continue. 'Speaking of rashes,' she thought. 'I should probably take care of _these_.' She jogged into her house, went into the bathroom, and lathed her hands in aloe vera. Afterwards, she wrapped her hands in a towel and laid on the couch.

Jessica plopped onto the couch and asked her mother what happened. "I got a rash on my hands. Tell your father to make dinner tonight." she replied.

"How'd you get a rash?" she asked.

"Gardening. It might be weeds..." Helen answered. As Jessica started to snicker, Helen glared. "I _wasn't_ growing drugs, for your information. Anyways, Marge was going to get me gloves that stop the rashes." she clarified. Jessica stopped laughing and changed the channel. 'I wonder what's in store for me tomorrow...' Helen thought.


	5. Gloves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally got the damn spoons to write today <3

Lo and behold, Helen's new gloves arrived a few days later.

She slipped them on, and went towards the garden. 'Let me do a test - if I work on these flowers for 30 minutes and I don't get a rash.. then these gloves work. If they don't...well, return to sender, they say.' she planned. As she pampered and prepared the plants, her hands felt nothing. 'It should be working. I suppose Marge really was a man of her word...' she pondered. Helen nearly smiled at the thought, but then stopped to shoo away a nearby fly.

Taking off her gloves, she saw no rashes. She smiled for real this time, happy at her work. "There's just _one_ more thing this garden needs!" Helen said, pulling out a small wooden sign and placed it in front of the patch. "DO NOT TOUCH" it read, so nobody would trample - or get a rash from - them. Certainly, there's no way that dinky sign could fail us!

Helen happily walked inside, gloves in hand. She set them on a nearby table, and went into the kitchen to get something to eat. 'I should get something simple, like strawberries.' she thought, getting a few of them out of the fridge. She was about to walk out when she saw Jessica walk up to her. "Hey Mom, Dad's saying cryptic stuff outside of church again." she told her.

"...Again?" she sighed. "What was he talking about?"

"Flowers. Maybe he sniffed your flowers when you weren't looking and the flower juices got into his brain!"

" _Flower juices?_ That's just nonsense. Besides, all we know about the negative affects of those flowers is that they give rashes." Helen said, walking out of Jessica's view. Setting down on the couch, she wondered about her daughter's new news. 'Timothy started rambling again...? My, this is perfect gossip!' she thought, picking up the phone. She told her friends (and Ned Flanders) about what he done. Besides, a visit from a few more friends wouldn't hurt.


	6. A Party so Near

Let's move yet a few more days later.

Helen and her friends crowded at the Flower Burrow, a café slash flower shop. "Hello, everyone." Marge said, walking near. They all turned to see what she had to say, with Helen looking last. "I'm hosting a party next month!" she revealed. Helen gasped for a variety of reasons. Marge was hosting a party - and she didn't know about it?! If it wasn't for the likely poisonous orchids she still kept in her backyard, it'd be the strangest thing she's heard.

"I assume the reason you're telling us this is because you want to invite us?" Luann reasoned.

"Yes. Well, and also because I didn't want Helen leaking the news." Marge said. "And speaking of Helen..." She carefully walked towards the grey-haired gossip. "Be wary about those plants of yours if you bring them, okay? I don't want any accidents occurring..." she warned. Everyone else looked at her, even though they already knew the news. "Alright. And can everybody else stop looking at me?" Helen finally replied.

Marge handed out invitations as Helen's friends spoke to each other. Helen herself just read the card over and over. 'The date is May 22.' she thought. 'I _can't_ afford to miss it...' Why did she want to go so bad? Perhaps it was to impress the other visitors...once again. Or perhaps...it was for **_murder_**.

Helen hoped it was the former. Going home once again, she lightly sprayed the plants with water before going inside. She then noticed the door to the basement was locked, which wasn't a usual thing for Tim to do. Since she couldn't find the keys anywhere, she guessed that he locked the door from inside. 'He better get out soon...' Helen thought. 'or I might have to invest in a door breaker.'


	7. What to do Now?

The next few days were arguably normal of the Lovejoys. Timothy snapped out of the worst part of his phase and started getting out the basement more. A few more people (including Yvonne) came and went, mostly to see the orchids. Each day inched closer to Marge's party. Helen only had one question...what to do now?

She decided to check the flowers first. Other then the rotting grass nearby, it looked normal. Helen added to the sign to not smell the flowers, either. She looked around, and since she found nothing else to do, walked back inside. Picking up the phone, she then figured she could at least pick up any new gossip.

'The party will consist of Marge's friends and family, Mayor Quimby had another affair, a mysterious lady is roaming the streets at night...It must be a slow news day.' she thought. Helen put down the phone and turned on the TV. It was Channel 6 News, Springfield's number one source for information. 'This should help with the boredom. Or the gaps in my memory. Or both...' she wondered, then laid back. While she's doing that, let's check in what Marge is doing.

She was putting up the decorations, of course. Homer complained, saying that the party was weeks away. She told him that is was better if she did them now so she wouldn't forget to do them later. "Besides, shouldn't you be checking on Lisa and Bart?" she asked. He nodded, then walked upstairs to see what they're up to.

Homer didn't need to open the door to see what Lisa was up to, since he could hear her practice the saxophone all the way from the front. He actually listened to her for a bit before looking for Bart. No surprise, he wasn't in his bedroom. 'He's probably in the backyard...' Homer thought, going back downstairs. He could see his son playing in the dirt from the window.

Homer went outside and picked him up. "What are you doing, boy?" he asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" Bart replied, throwing some mud at him.

"I guess. And, in case you're wondering, I'm only _partially_ mad at you. I'm more busy wondering how you got this much mud..."

"From the Flanders. I took this bag of dirt they had lying around. I wonder what was going to happen to it if I didn't steal it..."

Homer set Bart down. "On one hand, you're finally learned something from your father. One the _other_ hand..." he said, pushing him to the door. "Get washed. I don't want your mother seeing you like this." Bart shaked off some of the mud and dirt, took off his shoes, and ran inside. Homer looked around, then picked up some of the mud. 'Perhaps I could give him his dirt back...but not in the way he expected!' he thought, trying not to laugh.


	8. Interlude, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aka, 'Sorry for no Dirt'

The Lovejoy's house phone rang.

Timothy picked it up, expecting that the call was for him. In fact, he was surprised to hear the man on the phone ask for Helen. She took the phone and their conversation when like this;

"...Hey, Helen. There's something I need to apologize for." he said. Helen recognized the voice as Ned Flanders. "...Oh? What is this for?" she asked.

"I...I had a bag of dirt ready to send to you...but...but..." he started to sob. " _It's all gone!_ "

"...Oh...Alright. Perhaps you could put the rest of the dirt to good use?"

"Like my own rose garden?"

"Yes, your own-" Helen began to say, before realizing something. "...You have a rose garden?"

"Yessir! Found it sometime after you found those orchids. Unlike yours, my flowers made everything thrive!" he happily said. There was a bout of silence, maybe a minute or so. "...Um, I'm sure that it's just a coin-winky-dink." he added. Helen could hear him tugging his collar from the phone. It was beginning to feel awkward.

"Anyways, I'll be a few minutes late to the party and please don't bring any flowers! Good bye!" Ned said, before hanging up. Helen looked outside. The party was but a few weeks away, and it was getting dark. It was a good time to start getting some more sleep. And so, Helen hung up the phone, and went to bed.


	9. Interlude, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aka, "Bart's Nightmare"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, this chapter contains fourth-wall breaks and serious(ly bad) poems.

Let's start this chapter with a time skip. Does this story have too many time skips? Probably. Will that stop me from writing even _more_ time skips? Nope! ...But I digress, we have go on with this story. ...And by story, I mean poem...kinda. It's a bit confusing.

* * *

_Tis was the night before the party, and Bart twisted and turned..._

_He had a terrible dream, where the people wallowed and burned..._

_And, who could be the cause of this madness?_

_...And all this fear and sadness?_

_Bart walked through the halls, nowhere to run..._

_And somebody formed out of his shadow, sprung!_

_Muddled hair, glaring eyes...Oh, how they mesmerized!_

_At this point, with nothing else to say, they said..._

"Howdy, boy."

As you could tell, they had no sense of rhyme. Bart stepped a few tiles back, and asked, "Who are you?" They slithered up to him and said "Your nightmare...con carne!"

"...With meat? That doesn't make any sense."

"That...Uh, that was a 'meat and flesh' joke. I...am human, yes." they said. They slinked back a bit. Bart walked up to them and asked "Why are you in my dream, anyways?"

"Because, boy, I need you for a mission." they said, teleporting a group of flowers into their hand. Bart noticed what they were on the spot - _orchids_. "Hey! Aren't those-" he said, before getting interrupted.

"Helen's orchids? Oh, but of coruse. They _are_ technically mine, after all."

_Bart faced many strange things, despite just being a boy,_

_Like nearly getting killed, or turned into a toy._

_But through his years, he never saw anything like this..._

_Some unknown person who could change reality - with a flick of the wrist._

_Even if that power only came in their dreams..._

_What, Bart thought, were they doing behind the scenes?_

Bart snapped out of his spiel after getting hit in the face with cold rain. "...Huh...?" he whispered, before looking at the mystery man. "The whole apocalypse thing wasn't working right now, you see." they explained. They started walking towards a empty home, and gestured Bart to follow. He did, if only to see what they would do next.

"Bart, you see, I'm currently stuck here." they started.

"In...my mind?"

"No! In the dream world. I yearn to signal to you folk I exist...by a tragedy. Of course, I may just be a rouge figment of your imagination, desperately trying to get you to murder your father, but that's for another time."

Bart didn't care for the flowery explanation. "So...you want me to kill my father...and blame it on you? ...Because...?"

"I already told you, but let me put it like this. In a hundred other universes, Homer has died over and over. **_AND I WANT HIM TO DIE AGAIN, DAMMIT!_** " they nearly yelled.

"That...sounds kinda dumb. I'm _not_ doing anything for some random bud that only _probably_ exists."

"Um..." they said, starting to panic. "You get...revenge on...your father, I _guess?_ "

"Good enough!" he agreed. They then slapped Bart in the face, waking him up. He gripped onto the closed vase of orchids he was holding. It took him a few seconds to realize that the flowers inside were Helen's. He couldn't risk opening the vase without poisoning - or perhaps killing - him. Bart had two options; give them back to Helen...or give them to Homer.

He knew what he had to do.


	10. On the House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You thought this was a dead fic?? You wish <3

The party went better then Helen expected.

She thought this was the most decent out of all of them, if only because Homer seemed partially poisoned and she actually didn't have anything to do with it. Bart was an annoyance as usual, going on about his latest weird dream. 'Something about some angry lady with magic...' she thought. 'Couldn't be _that_ important.' Also, there were some good snacks.

"Hey, Helen." Marge said, walking up to her.

"Hm...?"

"So, first of all..." she said, before stopping. What should she mention first? Homer's half-poisoning, for the Reverend's non-appearance? She decided to go with the one that would be less weird first. "Where's the Reverend?"

"At home. He was sleeping, and I didn't want to wake him up."

"Fair enough." Marge said. She leaned towards Helen, furrowed her brow, and asked, "Second question...do you have a clue what happened to Homer?"

"Not really. I think Bart might have something to do with it, given what I saw outside earlier today."

"And that would be...?"

"A hastily closed vase of orchids and signs of tampering in my garden. The garden was _way_ more clean then I expected... So, that means either Bart is better at gathering flowers then I thought...or he's an accomplice."

"Now, now, don't accuse my boy like that. Speaking of Bart..." she said. Marge scanned the room and realized something. "He's not here. I'll go looking around." Marge walked away, and left Helen to herself. 'Well, while she's away, I might as well socialize...' she thought.

It was an hour or so later, and Helen was laying on the couch, watching everyone else. She lost interest a few minutes beforehand and had to sit down. Surely, nobody would walk up to her and talk now. 'Well...' she thought as Ned tapped on her shoulder. ' _Almost_ everyone.' Helen turned around to look at him and asked what he wanted.

"Well, erm...how do I put this? Your Reverend seems to a l-little more then...sleepy. I'm not all too sure what happened, but I think you should c-check. J-Just in case." he explained. Regardless of what happened, it was the perfect reason to leave. She shook his hand, thanked him, and left without a single word. Given how Helen acted, the rest (except Ned and Marge) seemed way less worried. Not to mention, Helen herself was in for a surprise...


End file.
